


what do you go home to

by orphan_account



Category: Marvel 616, Ms. Marvel (Comics)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-17
Updated: 2011-10-17
Packaged: 2017-10-24 17:12:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/265902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>sometimes she dreams of counting. other times, she dreams of prison. she smirks in another dream, and wakes feeling nothing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	what do you go home to

**Author's Note:**

> written to [this song](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IsiwtBbGC1M) by explosions in the sky.

Sometimes she dreams of counting. It always starts of counting the seconds in that dark room but then it morphs into counting her stuttered, labored breaths, the slow drip, drip of blood as it falls from limp, nailless fingers onto the floor, the heartbeats she can feel acutely in the bandaged wound on her thigh that still leaks a thin stream of red down her leg. In that dream she feels. Determination bubbles beneath the surface, desperation gnawing at its edges as she sits, unable to see anything. But she can feel.

Other times, she dreams of prison. It’s not as dark as the other cell she dreams of, and it’s nowhere near as cold. She hears sirens and feels her bruised feet thud against the ground as she runs beside her partner. Later, rough, torn cloth presses against her back and everything is warm. There’s still a dull ache that lingers everywhere, but the heat coursing through her veins overpowers it as she tips her head back and moans. Excitement and adrenaline are laced into every part of her. A sense of achievement, of winning, makes her grin and let out a breathy laugh.

She smirks in another dream as she walks steadily toward the white and green clad man that’s quickly becoming a large part of her life. He turns and his lips quirk at her in a small smile. It’s practically tradition now, to do this after he saves the day, so she plants one on him, amusement and fondness and love all swirling around inside her as she starts gently ribbing her hero. Her life has taken a turn for the crazy, seeming to emulate all the science-fiction novels she read growing up and during her free time, but she can’t bring herself to care. She’s too in love with the way things are going and the mystery she has to unravel.

It’s not with a start that she wakes, but with a slow opening of her eyes and the slightest quickly fading echo of emotion in her chest that leaves her feeling hollow and numb. It used to be that she would turn onto her side and curl up when she had these dreams. She would clutch her pillow and pray for tears that would never come. Sometimes, she would go flying, trying to find the joy that usually comes with soaring through the air in ways she couldn’t in a plane.

Tonight, she simply pulls on a pair of lounge pants and walks down the kitchen. It’s unfamiliar in some ways and eerily similar in others. She can see ghosts of the previous mansion in this one. She can stand in the doorway and imagine, so clearly, all the things that happened in the old one. But it’s not the same and she’s not living in the past.

She turns, reaches for a glass and finds Logan holding one out for her, expression relatively blank, but eyes knowing. She gives him a grateful look and gets herself some water, shoving away the old desire for something at least a little stronger. She sits next to him silently for a long while before reaching for his hand, squeezing it, then getting up and going to the roof.

It’s not until dawn has already come and she can hear people moving around downstairs that she moves back to her room. She showers, taking longer than usual and using the time to push away as much of the dreams and numbness as she can. She dresses in her costume, pausing only momentarily as she ties the red sash around her waist. A smile gets plastered on her face as she moves down the stairs and towards the dining room where she sees her team.

They all still seem like such a rag-tag group sometimes, but it works in ways she never would have anticipated. The fact that they’re all arguing over what kind of bacon tastes the best (or something as equally unimportant) during what was supposed to be a team meeting over breakfast is to be expected. She takes her place at the table, between Jessica and Peter, and reaches for the platter of scrambled eggs, laughing as Luke and Ben start really going at it, the occasional hand slamming down to make thin cracks in the wood of the table as they grin and argue.

Logan catches her eye and she gives a minute shake of her head. She’s alright now. The smile on her face isn’t fake. The warm, exasperation she feels is real, as is the amusement when she feels an arm slowly trying sneak its way around her chair, and the sheer amount of love that that she feels as she looks at her family fills her up until she thinks her heart may explode with it.


End file.
